


when nothing goes right, turn left

by goawayjb



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tiny bit of Angst, like barely any i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:37:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7103749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goawayjb/pseuds/goawayjb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson Wang is the unluckiest guy in the world, but then he meets Mark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when nothing goes right, turn left

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be drabble i have no idea how this happened ok this is trash i am trash i just have a lot of markson feelings

Jackson Wang is the unluckiest guy in the world.

He thinks this to himself for the fourth time this week, which doesn’t fill him with much hope as it’s only Wednesday. He knows it’s foolish to believe in such a thing as luck, and countless times he’s been told that you make your own luck and that luck doesn’t exist, but he finds that hard to believe as he bends down to pick up the contents of his grocery bag that split on his way home. If it wasn’t his shopping bag breaking, it was something else equally unlucky that caused him to curse whatever he’d done in a past life to deserve all this misfortune.

On Monday, he missed the bus to campus because he’d left his wallet in his _other_ pair of jeans, and was forced to get off and walk which in turn caused him to miss his first class, earning him another warning for attendance.

The following day he’d made sure to get up ten minutes earlier to ensure he had both his wallet and his bus pass in the right pair of pants only for it to start raining as soon as he left his shady apartment, finally making it to class with his clothes soaked through and the uncomfortable feeling of wet denim around his crotch for the rest of the day.

Jackson believed in luck, and he was certain that he had absolutely none of it.

As he begins piling his items into his arms, his heart sinks at the sight of fresh milk pooling out of the carton over the sidewalk. Perfect. He picks the remainder of this things up off of the ground, mostly instant noodles, toilet paper and microwavable popcorn and tries not to let the stares of others passing by bother him. Jackson is thankful that the store isn’t too far from his shabby apartment complex as he bunches his shopping into his arms and hurries home.

He uses the term _home_ loosely when it applies to his living arrangements. He’d lived in the dorms on campus before, and he’d loved it. His roommate was a pretty decent guy and living that close to his university he could get away with sleeping in until 10 minutes before his classes started and still making it on time. Unfortunately for Jackson, when it came to reapplying for the following semester, he was unsuccessful in handing in his application before the deadline- despite the fact he’d set the event notification for it in his phone- and was forced to move out and find a place of his own for his second semester. Human resources were less than apologetic when he tried to explain that he had sent his application in two days prior to the deadline, since they had never received it, it must be his mistake and he was simply advised to be more prompt next year.

Jackson’s budget for an apartment was already pretty low, considering his parents couldn’t even afford for him to go to university in the first place and it was entirely down to his fencing scholarship that he was able to. Since that had included on-campus accommodation he hadn’t ever needed to worry about the finances of getting his own place, so the sudden urgency of him being evicted in the next three days didn’t help his situation. The bus journey from his new home, again using the term loosely, took almost forty minutes with a further fifteen on foot to get to campus. If that wasn’t bad enough, his apartment, if you could call it an apartment at all, was essentially a small, box like room above a pizza place with a single bed, countertop and microwave, a tiny closet, and an even tinier bathroom. He liked to spend as little time in his room as possible, he was never one for tight spaces.

-

Jackson had the worst luck, seriously.

He tries not to sigh too loudly as he rummages around in his pockets searching for the one last coin he needs to have enough money for a coffee as the barista waits impatiently after being handed countless change he’d dug around for in his wallet. He could feel his cheeks warming to a light pink as he senses a line form behind him. He could have sworn he checked before he left home that he’d have enough money for a simple Americano. He didn’t even _like_ Americanos but they were the cheapest thing on the menu and he needed the caffeine after spending most of his night working on a paper for his next class.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it.” A smooth voice from beside him rings in his ears as someone leans over to hand the barista the extra coin he’d needed. Jackson blinks, trying to pull his bag back onto his shoulder so he could apologise profusely and tell the stranger they really didn’t need to help him. Jackson was pretty sure the slurred and pathetic excuse for an attempted sentence that fell from his mouth was as far from a _thank you_ he could get as he meets eyes with the boy who’d just helped him out from an already embarrassing situation. “You’re welcome” He grins, and Jackson never wants to take his eyes off his smile, or his lips. He needs more time to appreciate the way in which his auburn hair was styled so effortlessly, he wants to stare at his perfect, blemish free skin a second longer but he was already leaving- and he hadn’t even bought himself a coffee!

“Hello?” Begrudgingly, Jackson snaps out of it as he glances around, “You’re in the way.” The barista informs him through gritted teeth as the gentleman behind him struggles to get to the counter. Muttering a flustered _sorry_ , Jackson moves out of the way and it isn’t until he is waiting for his coffee at the pick up counter that he realises he hadn’t even given the barista his name. Regardless, he is more than sure they won’t be forgetting him in a while and he makes a mental note to avoid this particular coffee shop for the foreseeable future. Jackson is just reliving how embarrassing it was that he couldn’t even afford a single coffee without some stranger, albeit a beautiful one, feeling the need to come to his rescue when the disgruntled barista appears in front of him and thrusts his coffee cup into his hand before stalking back to the counter.

“But-“ Jackson opens his mouth to argue that this wasn’t his coffee, his name wasn’t Mark, which was the name scrawled across the cup but after looking at the barista’s miserable expression he realises he’d caused enough trouble and thought it better to keep his mouth shut. Jackson’s face puckers up the moment he takes the first sip- this was definitely his Americano alright. Jackson decides, as he dumps at least six packs of sugar into his cup of bitter disappointment, that Mark must have been the name his beautiful savior had given when he’d helped pay for his coffee. At least now, Jackson thinks, that he can put a name to the face of the stranger who’d helped him. _Mark._

-

Jackson sometimes thinks his luck can’t get any worse, and then, as if by some sick twist of fate the universe likes to take these opportunities to prove him wrong. Today, Jackson realises, is exactly one of those days.

“But…” He stammers, clutching the opened envelope in his hand. His knuckles are going white from how tightly he’s holding onto it and he isn’t sure if it’s to control his anger or to stop himself from bursting into tears.

“I know it’s unfortunate, Mr Wang but there just isn’t the funding for it.” The rep from human resources tells him, and it makes his blood boil because he doesn’t think she’s sorry in the slightest.

“But I got the scholarship!” He insists. “I got the scholarship and I studied for my exams and I’m still reaching the required grades!” His voice wavers and he doesn’t care that she can tell he’s on the brink of tears. “I worked so hard.” His last words are a whisper and his eyes sting.

“I understand the upset Mr Wang but-“

“No you don’t!” Jackson’s voice cracks as he interrupts her. “You can’t take away my place here because you suddenly decided I’m not worth the funding!” He knows he sounds pathetic, and he knows he sounds immature, but he also knows he won’t let them take this away from him without a fight.

“We’re not taking away your place here, Mr Wang,” She assures him, “It’s simply the matter of lack of funds to continue aiding your scholarship. You will simply need to begin compensating for your tuition commencing next semester.” She explains, which only makes it so much worse for the pain in Jackson’s chest. She looks up, expecting some kind of emotional retort from the first year student but he had nothing more to say. Jackson can’t afford university, it was as simple as that. It was only due to his fencing that he was able to secure it in the first place, and it had been more than a struggle to study hard enough to pass the academic tests to finalise it. It’s clear to him that the university saw no value in a boy who could fence and just about pass exams, they must have found other ventures much more worthwhile for their scholarship funding, no matter how much they sugar coated it.

“How long do I have to get the money?” Jackson’s voice was hoarse as he asks the question, because in his mind he knew that the answer didn’t matter. He didn’t have the money, his parents didn’t have the money either.

“Let’s see,” The rep flicks through some papers on her desk, “The University requires the full payment by the end of next month.” Jackson attempts to swallow but the lump was still in his throat as he tries to hold it together. Without a word, he slips out of the office and forces the crumpled letter into the nearest trash can and heads towards the nearest bathroom as he focuses all his energy on biting back tears. Usually, he might feel kind of pathetic for welling up with tears in public at this age but right now all Jackson can think about is how his dream is quite literally being ripped away from him through no fault of his own.

Jackson has really bad luck.

-

Jackson doesn’t swear when the elevator is broken in his apartment building and forces him to take three flights of stairs, it’s not the worst thing that’s happened to him that day. He doesn’t even complain when the hot water is sporadic when he tries to take a shower that evening. He doesn’t even curse his lucky stars, should they even be called lucky stars he isn’t quite sure, when the lightbulb goes out just as he sits down to eat his instant noodles. Instead he finds it in himself to drag his numb and heavy body over to his tiny bed and will sleep to take him.

-

Finding the motivation to get up and continue going to his classes is a struggle for the next week. He can’t see the point in going to class when he knows he has to drop out at the end of the semester. Why should he sit in on a lecture and actually take notes for a paper he doesn’t even need to write because his grade won’t matter anyway. For that week, Jackson can’t bring himself to think any of it matters. He’s already applied for seven jobs, and taken two interviews, but hasn’t heard back from anyone. They won’t take his calls when he tries to chase up his application, and he has to stop himself from childishly blaming his _bad luck_. Clearly, none of this was meant to be, and it was about time he stopped kidding himself.

“Jackson?” He blinks, his lecture had finished moments ago but he had yet to peel himself from his chair and put his books back into his bag. He looks up at his professor and tries to clear his throat and act like he hadn’t completely spaced for the last forty five minutes. “I’m sorry to hear about your scholarship.” Jackson’s chest aches just at the reminder that he was no longer worth the funding.

“These things happen.” He forces the words out. These things do happen, but only to Jackson Wang, he was sure of it.

“That being said,” The older man continues, “Human Resources requested that I pass this on to you.” He brandishes a letter addressed to Jackson. “If you need anything, you let me know. I’m sure we can work on some extra credit.” He assures him and Jackson is confused. Regardless, he takes the letter and thanks his professor before leaving. He waits until he’s outside before he opens it and finds his hands are shaking. Eyes nervously scanning over the letter, Jackson’s heart beat quickens and he has to stop to calm himself down before reading more slowly.

 

> _MR J WANG  
>   
>  We are pleased to inform you that the circumstances regarding your scholarship have changed and we are happy to reinstate your full academic scholarship due an unforeseen alteration. As this is a particularly unique circumstance we implore you to carefully study the revised conditions and requirements expected of you, should you accept. Please find below the aforementioned requirements._
> 
> _Student is required to_

  * > _Maintain an attendance rate of 95%_

  * > _Maintain attendance of all FENCING activities_

  * > _Maintain a GPA of at least 3.67_




Jackson stops reading.

A grade point average of 3.67 was an A-, and right now he was struggling to maintain a B in most of his classes, he only had to scrape a C+ in everything in the old scholarship agreement and he is suddenly made very aware that this entire thing was a catch. More or less, Jackson attended classes every day even when he was sick, so attendance wasn’t a problem. The highlight of his week was always Fencing and he never missed a meet or a competition, so that wasn’t going to be an issue either. But Jackson knows he isn’t capable of pulling his grades up that high and now he feels like someone was dangling his dream on a rope, just above his reach.

Jackson has never felt more frustrated. He understands now why his professor had been so delicate in offering him something to help with extra credit.

-

After his last class of the day, Jackson wants nothing more than to drag his sorry ass home and into bed, but instead he's choosing to spend his Friday night at the library. He’d already received an assignment for his Psychology professor and he knows he’ll have to put in a lot of hours to pull his C+ up to an A-. As he steps into the elevator of the library, the doors were just closing as a slim hand forces its way in between the doors just in time.

“Sorry.” The boy breathes, visibly out of breath from running for the elevator. Jackson nods but finds himself doing a double take. The perfectly styled auburn hair, the perfect smile, the perfect skin- Jackson was unabashedly staring at this boy-

“Mark.” Jackson blurts out. _Way to go, Jackson, that wasn’t creepy at all_ , he curses himself silently, “Sorry, I mean,” Mark laughs, and instantly Jackson wants to hear his laugh again, just watching his face light up makes Jackson’s chest feel lighter.

“It’s okay,” He grins, again with that fantastic smile, “Mark,” He holds out his hand to introduce himself properly, completely ignoring the fact Jackson had just blurted his name out.

“Jackson.” Jackson reached out to take his hand. “I never got to thank you for the other day.” He feels his cheeks blush a little. Mark waves it off.

“Forget about it, it was nothing.” He assures him, “So, what brings you to the library on a Friday night? Pretty exciting stuff.” Mark flashes him another of his killer smiles. The way he spoke to Jackson made it seem like the two had known each other for years, like he wasn’t just some freak he felt sorry for in a coffee shop a week ago.

“I have an assignment I have to do pretty well in.” Jackson explains as they step out of the elevator and into a sea of fairly empty tables. Mark nods.

“Sounds fun.”

“Oh it is. My life is oh, so fun.” Jackson regrets the bitter sarcasm the moment it leaves his lips, he’s pretty sure that being that cynical isn’t how you make friends. “What about you? Why are you here on a Friday night?” He asks quickly, trying to salvage whatever change he has left at not scaring Mark away. He tries not to look too obvious as he glances up and down. He’s taller than Jackson, but much slimmer, his clothes fit his body in such a way it makes Jackson’s throat dry. He figures no one should look that good in a pair of ripped jeans and hoody but somehow Mark makes it look like it’s worth millions.

“Me? Oh yeah, me too, paper to write.” He shrugs as he stops at a table in the corner. “Shall we sit here?” He drops his bag onto the table and Jackson stares at him. “Unless you’d rather sit alone?” Mark laughs. Jackson feels his insides melt just a little bit because the way Mark is looking at him, and the way Mark laughs, Jackson can’t help but to fight against the corners of his lips twitching into a smile.

“Sure.” He manages a single word, great, nice going Jackson, and sits down opposite Mark who takes out his books and Jackson physically has to will himself to _stop looking at his lips_ , but it’s oh so difficult when Marks front teeth are biting down on them as his brow furrows, eyes tracing the words of his text book.

Jackson spends the next two hours not so much writing his paper but pretending to, all the while stealing as many glances at Mark as he can without looking as creepy as he feels. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to concentrate on anything whilst Mark is sitting in front of him with his lips pursed together in a confused pout, and Jackson is sure it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Jackson has barely even moved on from his introduction when he’s suddenly aware that Mark’s standing up and pushing his books back into his bag, and his heart sinks.

“You’re leaving?” He finds himself asking the question before he realises just how pathetic it sounds out loud. Mark shoots him a sad smile.

“I have to if I want to catch the last bus before the drunks and crazy people start occupying the late night public transport.” He grins. Jackson can’t help but smile back in response.

“You don’t live on campus?”

“I did in my first year,” Mark explains, “But I found a place just out of town for this year. Good luck with your essay…” Mark glances over at Jackson’s poor excuse of an essay, barely even a page long and grimaces. “That bad?”

“It’s extra credit for my Psychology class.” Jackson sighs. “I have to get my grades up to an A- to keep my scholarship. It’s hopeless really.” He sighs and resists the urge to bang his head against the wood of the table. Mark looks sorry.

“That sucks.” He shoots him a pitiful smile. “Well, I better go. We should do this again.” Jackson wonders if he looks just as in shock as he feels, why on earth would anyone want to do this again? Sit for two hours with Jackson and listen to him curse at his text book and occasionally whimper in defeat. In between staring at Mark, this is, of course.

“Have a great weekend.” He manages to call after Mark who turns around to wave in response. Jackson spends the next fifteen minutes mentally kicking himself. _Have a great weekend_ , he mocks under his breath, really? That’s all he had? Not, _hey we should exchange numbers_ or _let’s get lunch next week_. At least now, he thinks, he can work on his paper undistracted by Mark’s perfect _everything_ , which would be easy if he could actually stop thinking about Mark long enough to do so.

-

Jackson’s weekend consists mostly of little sleep, instant noodles, energy drinks, and frustrated promises to himself that he’s going to quit university and become a stripper. Come Monday morning, he wants nothing more than to never watch another case study video on monkeys for as long as he lives. Whilst he’s dragging himself across the campus he’s questioning whether or not the hoodie he’s wearing really passed the _sniff test_ after all. He needed to do laundry. Whilst he thinks his mind should be on the anatomy class he has first that morning, or even the fact he has a hideous psychology paper to hand in later that day, Jackson’s mind is on other things. He finds himself scanning through the crowds of people he passes over campus, raking over them in hope that he can recognise a particular shade of red hair.

After bumping into a third person, Jackson figures he should stop pining and pay attention to where he’s going. He knows his university has a pretty huge campus, so the odds of running into Mark are slim. He can’t help but wonder if Mark really meant it when he said they should do that again, if he wanted to, why hadn’t they exchanged numbers? He was probably just being polite, Jackson tells himself. Just how Jackson had become so suddenly smitten with a boy he’d met twice- once if you didn’t count their fleeting encounter in the coffee shop, he had no clue.

Jackson is still thinking about Mark that lunch time when he’s wandering the courtyard looking for an empty bench. He’d kindly rejected his classmate’s offer of joining them for lunch that morning on account of an assignment he had to look over. He feels bad for lying, when in reality Jackson’s head is still swimming with thoughts of his scholarship, Mark, his fence meet next week, Mark, and… Mark. Suddenly, Jackson spots an empty table and makes a beeline for it, just falling short as he stops and sighs as a group of students sit down before he has chance to get there. Bad luck, he tells himself, and almost makes himself laugh.

Eventually, after situating himself on a smaller table under an apple tree towards the library, Jackson is leafing through his psychology assignment for the third time when he hears his name.

“Jackson!” He cranes his neck and tries not to look too ecstatic when he sees Mark jog over to him.

“Mark, hey!” He beams, flourishing his hand in what was supposed to be a wave but ended with his drink flying off the table and onto the grass in front of him. “Ah.” Jackson looks at it a little longer than necessary to avoid making eye contact with Mark whilst he wills death to take him. Mark laughs so brightly it was almost worth it, only it cost him two bucks and he hadn’t drank much of it yet.

“What’s up?” Mark sits down opposite Jackson and looks at him with such intent Jackson thinks he might forget how to speak.

“We should exchange lunch some time?” He blurts. Mark’s brow furrows, the smile never leaving his face but Jackson begins to panic. Somehow, in all his frenzy, _we should get lunch some time_ and _we should exchange numbers_ had merged into one horrifying embarrassing sentence.

“I, well, two sentences at once, I meant,”

“Lunch sounds good.” Mark grins. “Put your number in.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to Jackson whilst casually taking some of his fries. Jackson wants to hug Mark for completely ignoring all of his idiocies, but he thinks that might be again, on the creepy side, so he settles for putting his number in Mark’s phone as “Jackson :)” And handing it back.

As soon as he does, he instantly regrets not calling himself to make sure he had Mark’s number too. Now the ball is in Mark’s park and he probably doesn’t even want Jackson’s ball and this metaphor is getting creepy again and-

Jackson’s phone beeps.

“So how did the essay go?” Mark asks, reaching over to take the paper from under Jackson’s tray. “Is this it?” Jackson nods. Mark is asking him questions as if Mark cares, and Jackson decides he likes it, but he’s not entirely sure what it is he did to be worthy of Mark’s time.

“Pretty terrible.” Jackson shrugs. “You?”

“Huh?” Mark looks up.

“Your essay? How’d it go?” Mark stares at him and chews down on his bottom lip. Jackson gulps.

“Oh right, that essay,” Mark grins, shrugging it off. “Fine, I guess.” Jackson wants to make more of a conversation, to entice Mark into actually staying his friend, but Mark is already getting up off of the bench and handing back his essay. “I was actually on my way home, but I saw you and had to say hi.” He grins down at Jackson, the sun catching the side of his face and Jackson wishes it was more socially acceptable to whip out his phone and snap a picture so it could be his background photo for everything. “See you around, Jackson.” Mark waves and Jackson watches as he walks across the courtyard until he’s too far away to see properly. He remembers suddenly, that he’d gotten a text and rummages for his phone.

“ _Lunch Wednesday?”_

-

As it happens, Mark majors in Architecture, and he’s actually really smart. Jackson kind of envies him a bit, he plays basketball for the university and has a half scholarship, but Marks swears it’s just because his dad has connections. Jackson has a feeling Mark’s family have a lot of money but he doesn’t mention it and he doesn’t care. He just likes hanging out with Mark.

It’s a Wednesday, and it’s a week since they first had lunch. Neither of them had said anything but Jackson already thinks Wednesdays are going to become _their_ days, despite the fact they hung out on Thursday, _and_ Mark dropped by the library on Friday to tell Jackson to have a good weekend.

Jackson’s mood immediately lifts when he sees Mark wave him over to a table in the shade and he hurries over with his tray. Before he’s even had chance to sit down Mark studies him.

“What’s up?” He asks, leaning over to take one of Jackson’s French fries, despite the fact he has his own, and looks at him like he has all the time in the world.

“Nothing really.” Jackson shrugs.

“But…” Mark encourages,

“I got my paper back. The psychology one.” Mark shifts a little but continues listening none the less. “I got an A, Mark.”

“But that’s great!” Mark beams, hitting Jackson on the shoulder lightly.

“Yeah, the paper is _great_.” Jackson stresses, “But I didn’t write it.” Mark leans over the table again to open Jackson’s soda. “It has my name on it, and it’s basically the same topic, but I didn’t write it.” He reaches into his bag and hands the paper to Mark. Mark leafs through it before handing it back.

“Did you say anything to your professor?” He asks. Jackson shakes his head. “Are you going to?”

“I don’t know.” Jackson groans and folds over, his head falling onto his arms. Mark reaches over and rubs his back a little. “I need the grade but if I come clean and say it’s not mine then I might not get a grade that good. I _need_ this scholarship, Mark, I’m done for without it.” Neither of them say anything for a few minutes and eventually Jackson lifts his head up off the table. He reaches out for his soda and knocks it instead- he’s ready to swear and cuss and curse his bad luck but Mark’s hand is there to stop it from tipping over before Jackson can even say _shit_.

“You’re clumsy.” Mark grins, handing him the can. “Do I need to keep you on a leash?” Jackson immediately thinks he’d like to be kept on Mark’s leash. He grins half-heartedly.

“I have really bad luck, is all.”

“I think you’re just clumsy, Jackson Wang.” Mark argues, reaching over mindlessly to wipe away some ketchup from Jackson’s chin with his thumb. “And messy.” He adds. Nothing Jackson does in that moment can stop his lips cracking into a smile and he knows he’s blushing. Mark acts like nothing is out of the ordinary and starts babbling onto Jackson about how he thinks he needs to find a roommate because he’s bored of living alone and his apartment is too big for just one person. Jackson doesn’t mind that Mark is doing all the talking, because it gives him an excuse to look at him and not feel too creepy about it. If Jackson weren’t so afraid of jinxing his bad luck, he _might_ go as far to say that he was lucky to have met someone as great as Mark.

-

The following Friday, Jackson finds himself hovering outside of his lecture room for Psychology in hopes of catching is professor after the last class of the day. On Wednesday, he’d received yet another paper back with an A-, but whilst it was _kind_ of his paper, it had been edited heavily and for the better. Jackson was stuck in an emotional and moral turmoil. Just as he waits for the last of the students to mill out of the room, he feels an arm land around his shoulder and someone clings to his neck excitedly.

“I looked for you in the library.” Mark releases Jackson from his hold and punches him ever so lightly on the arm.

“You did?” Jackson suddenly feels sorry that Mark went all the way to the library just to find him, and he wasn’t there. He doesn’t question, though, how Mark knew to find him here. They’ve been hanging out pretty frequently for two weeks now and they’ve already gotten a grasp on each other’s schedules, more or less. Well, Jackson is very hyper aware of where Mark will be, pretty much all day every day, he’s not sure Mark is that bothered about his classes.

“Yeah I wanted to catch you before you started studying for the night.” He jabs Jackson in the side. Mark, Jackson has discovered, is a very touchy feely person, and he likes it very much. It’s almost like Mark has to punctuate his speech with a touch of Jackson’s hand here, or brushing a piece of fluff from his clothes there. “You should come hang out at my place instead.” Jackson blinks.

“I want to but,” Jackson can’t actually believe he’s turning Mark down. Mark Tuan, _Mark Tuan_ , has asked him over to his place and he’s about to say no. Jackson makes a mental note to staple his eyes when he gets home.

“No buts!” Mark pushes his slender hand over Jackson’s lips. “I know you have to work on your extra credit, but I’m already ahead of my assignments so I thought we could you know, study together, I could help you, and we could order pizza, watch a movie, hang out..?” Mark trails off and suddenly he doesn’t sound as confident as he first did. Jackson thinks that Mark might actually be nervous, like he doesn’t actually want to spend time with him.

“Thwuhbup-“ Jackson tries to gush at how perfect that sounds but Mark’s hand is still covering his mouth and as a result is now covered in Jackson’s spit. Mark blushes as he releases Jackson’s lips, almost like he forgot his hand was there and wipes it on his jeans. They’re Jackson’s favourite pair of Mark’s jeans, the light, distressed denim jeans with huge rips and tears that reveal more than enough of Mark’s legs.

“Sorry.” Mark runs his tongue across his lower lip, something Jackson has noticed he does when he’s more aware of himself or slightly embarrassed.

“That would be perfect.” Jackson tries again and smiles through his blushing cheeks and his smile widens when Mark flashes him a killer grin.

“Great!” Mark seems to find his feet again and propels Jackson along the corridor. Jackson knows that he should stick around to talk to his professor about the mix up in papers, but right now he’s just happy to be with Mark. He promises himself that if it happens again, he’ll definitely bring it up with his professor.

-

Jackson was right about suspecting that Mark was from a family with a fair bit of money. Mark lived alone in an apartment that was nice enough to have a doorman, and security cameras, a working elevator, and it the apartment itself was at least seven times bigger than Jackson’s box-like living arrangements. He feels like his jaw might unhinge itself from how wide his mouth has dropped, staring at all the space. Mark’s face is turning pink.

“What?” He asks, his shoulders are hunched forward as he holds his arm with one hand and his body language tells Jackson that he’s seemingly shy about where he lives.

“This is amazing!” Jackson marvels at the fact there’s an actual kitchen, and actual rooms! He drops his bag and kicks his shoes off by the door, hurrying over to inspect the TV in the corner, adorned with shelves containing numerous movies and video games that Jackson was dying to play. “And you live here alone?” Jackson looks over at Mark who is still standing by the door sheepishly. “This is incredible!” Jackson falls backwards onto the leather couch and laughs. “This couch is comfier than my bed.” He squirms in all the cushions and sits up, bemused. “This couch is bigger than my bed, actually.” He has a lopsided smile across his face that fades as he catches Mark’s eye. “What?”

“Nothing I just didn’t realise how lucky I was, I guess.” Mark forces a smile and Jackson feels terrible.

“You are super lucky.” Jackson agrees aloud, without even thinking. He winces a little as Mark doesn’t seem to cheer up so he tries to change the subject. “You are a lot prettier when you smile.” And Jackson thinks he’s going to staple his mouth this time before that is a thought he meant to _think_ , not _say._ He turns around quickly, not having seen Mark’s face turn red as a warmer smile fills his lips in response to Jackson’s word vomit.

“Thanks.” Mark’s voice is quieter, but Jackson thinks he’s probably just wondering how to get this creep out of his apartment, fast. “I think I just smile more when you’re around.” This kind of exchanging of words is new to the two of them and the air is awkward. Jackson desperately wants to say something so that the two of them can go back to their usual selves but he knows if he opens his mouth he’s just going to make the situation worse. “Did you want something to drink?” Mark asks after a while and Jackson lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Sure” Jackson gets up off of the couch and follows Mark into the kitchen, “thanks.” He takes the soda and prays that it doesn’t explode when he opens it.  That kind of thing happens to him a lot.

“Want to get started on your assignment?” Mark asks, glancing over to Jackson’s bag by the door. Jackson sighs.

“I guess.” Jackson doesn’t want to think about anatomy, _unless it’s Mark’s anatomy_ , or psychology or biology, he’d rather just hang out with Mark at Mark’s place.

“Come on,” Mark pushes him towards the door, “The sooner we get it done the sooner I can beat you at Tekken.” He smirks and Jackson’s face lights up.

-

“Let me see,” Mark leans over on the couch to tilt Jackson’s laptop screen towards him. They’ve been tackling Jackson’s research paper for nearly three hours and whilst Jackson had lost all the will to live in hour two, Mark’s enthusiasm never fades. “How about..” Mark reaches for the key pad and begins typing. The laptop is resting on Jackson’s lap and he can feel Mark’s breath on his neck as the older boy pushes closer to him to change a few of his sentences. “How is that?” Mark asks, looking up at Jackson, their faces just inches apart. Jackson clears his throat.

“You’re so much better at this than I am.” He sighs, very aware of the fact Mark is basically sitting on top of him. Mark laughs in Jackson’s ear and hits the save button on Jackson’s laptop.

“I think we’re done for now.” He pulls the screen down and pushes the laptop aside. “How do you like your pizza?”

No matter how hard Jackson tries, it’s physically impossible for him to stay in a foul mood when Mark is around. He loses almost every single time they play Tekken- and the time Jackson does win, he thinks Mark let him.

“Mark?” Jackson looks up from the pizza and pulls a piece of pepperoni off and pops it in his mouth. “Do you even take Psychology?” Mark smiles at Jackson. His thick lips are wet as he licks them after he finishes his mouthful.

“No.” He answers honestly.

“But,” Jackson should know better than to persist by now,

“I don’t mind.” Mark cuts him off. Jackson doesn’t push it. Instead, Mark leans over and wipes some cheese from Jackson’s chin and chuckles.

“You’re so messy.” Jackson’s protests are halted by the sound of his phone alerting him he has low battery. As he’s ready to pull down the brightness and look for his charger, his face falls. “What is it?” Mark, as intuitive as ever, notices the change in Jackson’s expression. Jackson stares at the time, it’s already past 11pm, meaning Jackson has already missed his last bus. A taxi from this part of town would cost him a fortune, and after they’d split the cost of the pizza, he had barely enough for a bus fare left in his wallet let alone a taxi on a Friday night.

“I missed my bus.” Jackson groans.

“So?” Mark seems relieved that nothing more serious was wrong. “You can just sleep here, it’s no big deal.” He shrugs.

“Wait, really?” Jackson looks at Mark, and Mark bursts out laughing like Jackson just told him the funniest joke that every existed.

“You think I’m going to make you walk home?” Mark punches Jackson lightly on the arm and his laughing subsides as he leans to rest his head on Jackson’s shoulder. “Oh Jackson.”

-

“You can sleep in this,” Mark tosses Jackson a tank top from his closet and doesn’t waste time in unbuckling his belt. Jackson is standing in the doorway of Mark’s bedroom and trying his very hardest to remain calm. Now is not the best time to let Mark know usually he sleeps in his boxers and nothing else. He’s not going to pass up the opportunity to borrow Mark’s tank top. “Don’t just stand there.” Mark laughs and throws a pillow across the room at Jackson. “Come to bed.” Jackson’s heart is beating way faster than it should, those words _come to bed_ are already replaying over and over in his mind and he tries not to stare at Mark who’s already changed into a t-shirt so baggy his nipples are nearly visible and just his boxer shorts.

“On my way.” Jackson forces a reply and never has he felt so self-conscious of his body as he begins peeling off his jeans. He can feel Mark’s eyes over him watching his every move as he pulls off his sweater and undershirt, cursing himself as he can’t seem to get Mark’s tank top over his head fast enough.

“Turn the light off, would you?” Mark asks mid yawn. It’s almost 3am, and after another round of Tekken and some terrible movie they found in Mark’s apartment, neither of them could fight the urge to sleep any longer. Jackson complies, flicking the light switch and shutting the bedroom door before making his way over to Mark’s bed. He can feel his heart beating in his throat.

Of course, there’s nothing wrong with two guys sharing a bed, it’s completely normal, Jackson knows that. It’s just not so normal to want to _kiss the living daylights_ out of the boy you’re sharing a bed with, certainly not in these circumstances, anyway.

Mark pulls back the covers for Jackson, who scrambles in beside him. Jackson isn’t sure if he’s thankful or sorry that Mark’s bed is really big.

“G’night, Jackson.” Mark mumbles into his pillow as he nestles into the covers.

“Sweet dreams.” Jackson whispers back.

-

It becomes a routine.

Mondays, Mark only has morning classes, so he stops by to have lunch with Jackson before he goes home for the day and Jackson spends the rest of the afternoon pining, they snapchat and text back and forth.

Tuesdays they both have pretty busy schedules so Jackson is lucky if he manages to see Mark in the corridor, admittedly sometimes he’ll go the extra long way to anatomy to make sure he passes the room where Mark has further calculus so he can say hi.

Wednesday, they have lunch, because it’s _their_ day, just like it had been in the beginning, and even though they _know_ both of them will be there at _their_ table beneath the apple tree by the library, every Wednesday morning, Jackson receives the same text; “ _lunch today?:)”._

On Thursdays, Jackson has fencing, and Mark has basketball. If Mark has a basketball game, providing it doesn’t collide with Jackson’s fencing, Jackson will _always_ make sure to go and be the loudest most obnoxious cheerer in the crowd. Likewise, if there’s an important fence meet or a competition, Mark drops everything to make sure he can go to support his best friend. He’s not quite as boisterous as Jackson in the crowd, but just seeing his face is enough to cause Jackson’s chest to swell with pride.

Fridays are Jackson’s favourite days. He waits outside for Mark, and they get the bus back to Mark’s place together. They force themselves to spend the first few hours doing homework, and Mark will help Jackson with his assignments and extra credit all the while constantly supplying him with words of encouragement, and sometimes he tells Jackson he’s proud of him, and Jackson feels like he could conquer anything. Then, they order take out, play video games and watch terrible movies until they’re both too tired to function, barely even able to drag their sorry, tired bodies to Mark’s room to sleep.

Come Saturday morning, they wake up in a tangled mess of limbs and blankets, more often than not with Jackson’s head buried in the crook of Mark’s neck, sometimes with a little drool. Waking up in this situation, though, is something that both Jackson and Mark quite like. Waking up in Mark’s arms is Jackson’s favourite part of his entire week. On the mornings where he’s awake before Mark, he dares contemplate just how lucky he is.

Jackson is doing well in school, his grades are high enough to maintain his scholarship, and despite the fact he technically got two A’s for papers that don’t seem to be his, it doesn’t happen again so he pretends it never happened in the first place. He works hard, he gets to keep his scholarship, and he spends all his time with Mark. Jackson is happy.

When Jackson is with Mark, he feels lucky.

-

“But Jackson,” Mark sighs and his voice is strained, because he knows he’s already lost the argument.

“No.” Jackson says firmly and he ignores Mark’s whining as he cracks eggs into the frying pan. Mark and Jackson don’t fight, they discuss, they debate, and only ever one topic. Mark loses every time.

“But Jackson.” Mark whines again. “It would be so much easier, you don’t have to live in that dingy apartment anymore.” About a month after Jackson and Mark had started hanging out, Mark had suggested Jackson move in and be his roommate since he had been meaning to advertise for one anyway. His apartment was big enough for two people and it seemed a shame to keep it all for himself.

“I said no.” Jackson reaches for the bread and stops when he feels Mark wrap his arms around his waist and presses his cheek against his back and squeezes.

“Pleaaaaaase.”

“Mark, this isn’t fair.” Jackson sighs, trying to focus all his attention on everything except how great it feels when Mark clings to him, and how he wants to turn around and hold him properly and never let go. His breath catches in his throat. “I can’t afford to live here. You know this.” Jackson wonders if Mark can feel how fast his heart is beating. Mark _wants_ Jackson here, and he’s not sure Mark knows just how much that makes his head spin.

“I never said you’d have to pay rent. Just move in.” Mark begs. Jackson peels Mark’s arms away from his waist and turns around.

“You know I can’t do that.” Jackson’s brow furrows. It was pitiful enough that Mark had to help him pay for his coffee the first time they met, the last thing he wants is to be some freeloader that can’t pay their rent. “I’m fine where I am.” He insists. Mark gives up. It won’t be the last time he tries to convince Jackson to move in for convenience sake, it’s closer to campus, they spend all their time together anyway, he likes having Jackson around, it’ll be fun, Mark lists dozens of reasons but they all end in Jackson saying no. 

-

Final exams creep up on Jackson. He isn’t sleeping enough, he isn’t eating properly, and he thinks his brain will surely explode from all the information he’s trying to cram inside it. It drives him insane that Mark is always cool, calm and collected when it comes to exams, but Mark just insists it’s because this is his second year and he was much more stressed in his first year. Jackson doesn’t believe him.

“I don’t see it anywhere.” Jackson sighs. Mark’s room is relatively always clean, save for a few dirty t-shirts strewn across the floor some times and the occasional empty can. But his desk, ever since Jackson first came over to Mark’s place, has always been a mountain of disorganisation. It’s mostly just paper, piled together in no particular order, and a tonne of books gathering dust.

“It might be near the bottom.” Mark calls from the other room. Jackson frowns and rakes his eyes over the desk looking for the biology text book Mark assured him was in here. Apparently, Mark had taken a biology class in his first year for extra credits in his course. Jackson bites back the comment sitting on the tip of his tongue that Mark is too smart for his own good. Jackson keeps looking and gets a little more ruthless with his search, pulling out pieces of paper and piling them on Mark’s chair. Most of them are what Jackson assumes to be drafts for old assignments until his eyes fall on a particular sheet.

Jackson sees his name at the top of the page. He finds his eyes scanning across the paper and an angered and confused warmth begins to bubble violently inside of him. There’s still a small part of Jackson’s brain that longs for there to be an explanation for this, but the sinking feeling he has in his gut tells him he already knows what this is.

“Did you find it?” Mark appears in the doorway and Jackson doesn’t look up. “Jackson?” Jackson can feel him move closer.

“What the hell is this?” He holds the paper out, his fingers are curling around it tightly and the sides crumple. Mark looks taken aback and his mouth, his _perfect lying mouth_ is hanging open in a small _o_ , as he stammers in confusion. “Why do you have this, Mark?” He pushes the paper into Mark’s shaking hands. He brings himself to look up, to look at Mark properly as his eyes urge him to please, _please_ give him an explanation as to why Mark has the psychology paper Jackson got an A for, the paper Jackson didn’t write. The paper Mark had blatantly looked through at the time and said nothing.

“Jackson,” Mark’s voice is shaky and Jackson knows. “Jackson you have to let me explain.” He pleads, his tone is soft and weak and Jackson lets out a small, pointed laugh.

“Explain?” Jackson’s words are laced in venom and he’s never heard this kind of bitterness in his own voice before and he hates it, he hates that he’s directing this kind of anger at Mark. _His_ Mark. “How are you going to explain to me that you’ve been lying this entire time.” Jackson hates the way his voice is wavering in anger and in upset. “Am I going to find the second paper you wrote lying around here too?” He asks in exasperation and begins pushing papers around, desperately hoping he doesn’t find it. When he does, he feels something inside of him break.

“Jackson, please.” Mark hasn’t moved from his spot and Jackson is pulling the pages to pieces and throwing them on the floor.

“How do you explain this away!” Jackson raises his voice. He wants to cry. For three months, he’d worked so hard to pull his grade up, spending sleepless night after sleepless night hunched over his computer working on papers to prove he was worth his scholarship. For three months he’d begun to build his entire being around Mark, who told him he was worth it, who told him he was smart enough, who told him he deserved the scholarship and that he was proud of him. All this time, Mark had lied.

“Just let me try!” Mark tries to raise his voice but it cracks and Jackson can hear just how pained and upset he is but he doesn’t care. _He_ is upset.

“Am I not smart enough for you? Is that what this is about? I’m not actually intelligent enough to achieve my dream by myself so you have to take pity on me? What am I, your hobby? You felt so sorry for the kid who can’t even write a good enough paper by himself so you have to take it into your own hands? Is this some kind of sick joke to prove how incompetent I am?” Jackson’s voice is going hoarse and he has run out of pages to rip to pieces and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “Is this because I wasn’t good enough for you?” He knows that last bit was completely irrelevant and his emotions are running too high for him to rationally think about. But He says it again. “Am I not good enough for you?”

And Mark kisses him.

Alarms are going off in Jackson’s brain, and he wants to push him away because he’s angry, he’s so, so angry at Mark. But Jackson wants this. He’s wanted this for as long as he remembers having laid eyes on Mark and now Mark’s hands are cupping the side of his face and his lips are on his and there’s so much electricity between them that Jackson thinks if he tried to push him away it would be fruitless. And Jackson is kissing Mark back. His hands are already buried in Mark’s hair and he breathes heavily between them, his lips feverishly moving against Mark’s, and he’s scared Mark will change his mind. The tension between them that had been building and building for the past three months begins to melt away and Jackson wishes he could push himself even closer to Mark than is physically possible. He can’t even find it in himself to feel ashamed for the whimper that leaves his mouth when Mark pulls away first.

“You have always been good enough.” He breathes, and he punctuates it with a soft but passionate kiss. “You will always be good enough.” Jackson has so much to say, he still has so much he needs to ask Mark, and he’s still mad… He thinks, somewhere. But the words can wait, he decides, as he pushes his lips back against Mark’s and slides his hands down Mark’s neck, allowing Mark to push him back against the bed.

-

“I’m sorry.” Mark is the first to speak after their lips are bruised and raw and Jackson doesn’t think he can stay conscious anymore with how much his head is spinning. Mark crawls up to rest his head on Jackson’s chest gingerly, like he’s afraid Jackson will push him away. “I really, really didn’t mean to hurt you.” Jackson believes him, and he agrees to listen to what Mark has to say.

Mark admits that he thought Jackson was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, since the first time he saw him- Which as it happens, wasn’t in the coffee shop. He’d seen Jackson in the office for human resources when his internet had cut out the morning he tried to choose his classes and been stuck with psychology, a class he’d really tried to avoid taking.

“I kept seeing you.” Mark tries to explain, “Every time I saw you, my heart ached. I saw you trip in the cafeteria because your shoe laces were too long. I saw you run across campus without an umbrella and completely ruin your text book. I saw you wander around at lunch looking for a free table for fifteen minutes before you just ate by yourself, and again the time you opened your soda and it just spilled all over you, I saw you so many times and I didn’t know how to say hello.” Mark hides his face.

“And then there you were, struggling for change and I thought it was the perfect time for me to talk to you because hey, I could make a joke about you owing me one and then maybe I’d ask for your number but I got scared okay, I just left.” Jackson feels Mark squirm into his side as he recounts their first encounter from his perspective and Jackson just tightens his arm around him.

“And then,” Mark sighs, “I didn’t mean to see, or hear, I really wasn’t trying to intrude or invade your privacy, but I had to see someone in human resources about one of my modules and I saw you again, that day…” Mark trails off and tries to look up at Jackson to gage his reaction. “I could see you were upset and I really wanted to see if you were okay but… I know I was really out of order, but I read the letter about them taking away your scholarship.” Mark winces. Jackson tenses.

“And then?” He doesn’t take his arm away from around Mark’s shoulder, but he wants Mark to continue.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said my dad knew people at the university and I just really didn’t think it was fair that they were taking away someone’s scholarship without proper reasoning, and I know it was none of my business but-“

“Are you the reason my scholarship was reinstated?” Jackson interrupts him and stares at Mark in bewilderment.

“Yes I’m so sorry, I know it wasn’t my place but-“

“You gave me back my scholarship.” Jackson repeats.

“Yes…” Mark is looking at him now in complete confusion. “And I didn’t know they’d change the conditions of your grades, if I’d have known I’d have-“ Mark is babbling now and Jackson feels the best way to shut him up is to kiss him.

“Thank you.” Jackson breathes against Mark’s lips. Mark stares at him in utter disbelief.

“I wasn’t doubting your intelligence when I changed your papers, Jackson, I really wasn’t. I didn’t even mean to do it but that day at the library you were really struggling and I felt like I was responsible and I just wanted to help you and I felt really bad about it and I only did it twice-“ Jackson kisses Mark into silence again.

“Thank you.” Jackson says again. “Just to clarify,” He says in between kisses,

“Mm?”

“Hanging out with me all this time and helping me with my homework and telling me to move in, that wasn’t out of pity, right?” Jackson asks tentatively and he feels pathetic but if he doesn’t ask, he knows that thought will sit at the back of his mind. Mark groans in exasperation.

“I did all this because I like you.” Mark sits up and wriggles out of Jackson’s arm. “And you happen to be incredibly attractive, just saying.” Jackson scoffs and tries to hide the shade of red his cheeks are going but Mark just tugs his arms away from his face.

“Says the most beautiful person on the planet.” Jackson mumbles in response and he feels pleased with himself when he sees Mark’s cheeks flush pink.

“Shut up.” Mark grins, and Jackson is happy to make him. “Wait.” Mark leans back suddenly and Jackson scowls. “Does this mean you’ll move in with me now?” He asks hopefully, putting on his best adorable face and pouting his lips together and begging Jackson with his eyes.

“You have to let me pay some of the rent.” Jackson reasons, still leaning forward to try to kiss Mark. Mark ducks out of the way.

“You can pay me half of whatever rent you pay now.” He counters.

“No, let me pay you the same as what I pay now.” Jackson wraps his arms around Mark’s slender waist and pulls him closer.

“Fine.” Mark gives in, “But you have to let me pay for groceries.”

“Fine.” Jackson agrees, “But Friday take out is on me.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.” And Jackson finally plants his lips on Mark’s.

-

Jackson still forgets his wallet when he’s late for the bus, and Jackson still takes the wrong text book to the wrong class, and Jackson still drops everything out of the fridge when he opens the fridge door, and he still picks the wrong topics to study for a pop quiz, and he still manages to pick the soda that's ready to explode as soon as it opens, and he still picks the wrong days to forget his umbrella.

But Mark always remembers to check for Jackson’s wallet, and Mark sets Jackson’s alarm 10 minutes earlier than usual so that Jackson doesn’t miss his bus, and Mark remembers to bring Jackson’s correct text book to class, and Mark is there to put everything back in the fridge when it falls out, and Mark makes sure Jackson studies _all_ the topics for finals, and Mark always has a tissue handy for when Jackson spills things, and Mark always has an umbrella, just in case.

Jackson has Mark.

Jackson Wang is the luckiest guy in the world.


End file.
